


Break a few Things, Say it Wasn't You

by anna_sun



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, First Dates, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Teasing, god this is so cheesy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-29 20:47:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12093120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_sun/pseuds/anna_sun
Summary: "Do you regret it yet?" James asked, trying not to sound too obvious in his approaches. "Whatever it is you’ve done to get here.""Nah," the unfairly pretty new guy answered as he paused from work in favor of drinking some water. He took off his glasses to let them hang around his neck before doing so, and James found himself staring at his collarbone. "A couple of community service hours aren’t enough to make me regret teaching a cunt not to fuck with my friend."//AKA vandalism can lead to meeting hot guys and eventually dating them, apparently.





	Break a few Things, Say it Wasn't You

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: what you're about to read is insanely fucking cheesy. 
> 
> I also totally let myself go with this one. It's mad crack, jokes about orgies, John's big dick, memes and vibrators. 
> 
> Enjoy!

There was a new guy. There hadn’t been one in months, now, so much that James had started thinking perhaps everybody in the city had suddenly stopped vandalizing stuff. Well, that and stopped volunteering, too. 

Apparently not, because there the new guy was, wearing the same ugly yellow vest and protection glasses as the rest of them, only _he_ managed to somehow remain stunning despite it all. It frustrated James; the day was unbearable enough without a fucking Calvin Klein or some other shit-brand model parading around in all this heat. The sleeves of his white shirt were clinging to his biceps, for fuck’s sake, and it was just starting to get wet under his armpits, James could see when he lifted the pressure washer to get at taller parts of the Graffiti. 

"Do you regret it yet?" James asked, trying not to sound too obvious in his approaches. "Whatever it is you’ve done to get here." 

"Nah," the unfairly pretty new guy answered, pausing from work in favor of drinking some water. He took off his glasses to let them hang around his neck before doing so, and James found himself staring at his collarbone. "A couple of community service hours aren’t enough to make me regret teaching a cunt not to fuck with my friend." 

"Oh?" James was intrigued. "Well, give it a week. You’ll start seriously considering downing a bottle of that chemical mess they give us to scrub on the walls." 

The new guy chuckled, voice deep and shoulders shaking with it. 

"How many hours you got left?" 

"A hundred or so," Flint answered. "And I’ve been doing this for six months already." 

The guy winced, "Damn. I’ve only got a hundred total." 

The both went back to work in silence for a short while. James tried to concentrate on getting that annoying black contour of the letter A (from the soon-to-vanish A S S art piece) off the bricks, but his eyes kept dancing back to the new guy beside him. The glances were less than subtle and his arms were slowly but surely losing their ardour. 

"I’m John, by the way," the new guy, _John_ , said, with the hint of a smile teasing at his lips. 

"I’m James. Or Flint, whichever." 

John blinked up a couple of times at him. 

"Flint?" He sounded incredulous. "James Flint? You – Oh My God." 

Then he started laughing wholeheartedly, and it was definitely the most beautiful thing James had ever witnessed. He still managed to pull off a somewhat convincing confused look. 

"What’s so funny about my name?" 

John had to take one deep breath. 

"Small fucking world," he muttered under his breath, before he made himself clearer. "You’re friends with Eleanor Guthrie, aren’t you? She owns that Nassau bar, on Centinela Avenue." 

"Yes," Flint dragged out the word, needing not to fake his confusedness this time. "How do you – " 

"It’s the reason I’m here," John talked through his smile. "I was pissed, and broke her front window. I also might or might not have stolen a couple of bottles." 

James was stunned. Only but a week ago Eleanor had called him early in the morning, to complain and yell some nonsense about one of Max’s friends and her bar, that had been damaged during the night. He’d hung up on her. 

"Eleanor is the cunt that fucked with your friend," James realized out loud. "May I ask what it is exactly that she did?" 

John stared at the wall for a second before he bent over to pick up a sponge from their shared bucket, and scrubbed at the brick. 

"My best friend, Max," he said, the name leaving his mouth with fondness. "I can’t bear to see her hurt. When she cries – it’s fucking heart wrenching." 

"I find that to be the case with every woman," James commented. He knew Max – of course he knew Max, she’d been the only thing Eleanor would talk about for an entire month. He’d however never heard of any John. 

"Maybe so," John said. "Still, I – " 

"What?" James couldn’t help but interrupt. "You decided to seek revenge on Eleanor because she broke your friend’s heart?" 

James’ sentence ended on an higher tone, almost a laugh, and John smiled, if only a little. 

"My _best friend_ ’s heart," he corrected. "Plus, I was drunk." 

James chuckled, and just before it died out, he was hit with the realization of how easy it was to speak to John, how the conversation flowed without James feeling the pang of anxiety that usually ate at him when he found himself conversing with strangers. 

"How come neither Max nor Eleanor ever mentioned you to me?" James asked, genuinely curious, before he realized John would probably not have an answer to that. "How come _you_ knew _me_? What did they tell you about me?" 

John shrugged. 

"Well, perhaps they called me Silver?" He proposed, and James’ eyes opened wide. Everything suddenly clicked; he’d heard many, many stories about one called Silver, in between a lot of vodka shots and dice games. "And I don’t know, nothing much. Eleanor just talked about you a lot. Stuff like ‘ _I was at Flint’s the other day_ ’ and ‘ _he gave me advice on buying a new vibrator_." 

"She did not!" James gasped, knowing full well it was the truth. It unleashed a full body laugh out of John. "God, that woman has no sense of privacy, or _decency_ , especially when it comes to matters in which – " 

"Hey, it’s okay," John cut him off by looking at him with a gaze so intense James’ words died on their way out of his mouth. He could feel himself blushing furiously. "I would have helped her as well, had she asked." 

John’s smile was devilish then, and God, the implications behind those words, James’ whole body almost melted to the hot concrete right on the spot. 

The moment of silence that followed was tense. The blush wouldn’t fade out of James’ cheeks, the traitorous bastards, and he wanted to do nothing but dig himself a hole to crawl into. 

"You know," John stated, and James was half-thankful for the probable change in discussion, until, "I really wouldn’t have taken you for the shy type." 

"I am _not_ shy," James declared immediately. "I’m just not particularly fond of strangers knowing – knowing something about me that’s so –" 

"Hot?" John tried to finish for him, and James felt his face burn. 

" _Personal_ ," he managed to spit out. "Forget what I said about Eleanor earlier. _You’re_ the one without any sense of decency." 

John actually beamed like that was something to be proud of. 

"Hey, I’m a simple man." He said. "When I see an opportunity, I take it." 

James’s knees practically wobbled then, and he realized, while fighting a smile off of his lips, that these last hundred hours were going to be _Hell_. 

\- 

"How come you never told me your ex was friends with the most beautiful man in the entire world?" James asked Eleanor when he found himself staring at the bottom of his fourth drink that night. It had been yet another long Sunday afternoon going mad over John’s muscles, over his voice, over even the tip of his fucking nose. 

"Who?" Eleanor sounded confused from behind the counter, where she was drying a pint glass with a piece of cloth before hanging it on one of the hooks above the sink. 

"John," James practically moaned. "John fucking Silver." 

"You know him?" Eleanor looked straight past James’ obvious despair. "He’s the dickhead that destroyed my window!" 

"I know, he’s doing community service hours for it!" 

Eleanor frowned. 

"Oh," she muttered, before her brow soothed. "That’s how you met? And you – Oh Jesus. You’re _attracted_ to him?" 

Flint’s first answer was to groan, which made Eleanor chuckle. 

"How could I not be?" He sighed. ‘’You’ve seen him, right? You’ve seen – " 

"I’ve seen how much of a dick he can be," Eleanor interrupted, and James’ eyebrows raised almost all the way up to his hairline. 

"Oh, yeah, I bet," he whispered the words mostly to himself, but Eleanor heard him clear as a bell, and proceeded to throw the wet rag at his face. 

"You’re unbelievable," she said in that soft voice of hers. "Wanting to fuck John Silver. Y’know, if Max was telling the truth, I must say you’d be in for quite a _long_ surprise, if ya know what I mean." 

Shocked, and a long way past tipsy, James’ mouth opened so wide that Eleanor cackled. 

"Shame I’ll probably never get to see it," he sighed once his brain stopped short-circuiting. "How come Max, of all people...?’’ 

"Well," Eleanor dropped doing the dishes in favor of resting both of her palms flat on the counter, staring at her friend dead in the eyes when she punctuated each of her following words, "They met during an orgy." 

James almost choked on his own tongue. 

"I can’t – you’re killing me," He sputtered, holding out his drink for it to be filled with alcohol to the rim again. 

After a sip, he chuckled. 

"Yeah," he concluded. "This is all truly going to be the end of me." 

\- 

Here they were again, in the LA summer heat, except it was lunch time, and the bunch of them were eating sandwiches on the edge of the sidewalk. 

"Believe me, you don’t want to trust the whores on that side of town. They’ll bait you into some real, fucked-up shit. Steal all your stuff and cut your cock off once they’re done with it type of shit." 

James was listening with one distant ear, trying not to laugh out loud at the absurdity of the story. John just never stopped _talking_. 

"Yeah?" Billy prompted. "Then what?" 

They all glared at him. 

"Well – shit, Billy! Then you have a bleeding hole instead of a cock!" John laughed, bits of chicken falling out of his sandwich, and James hid his own smile in the crook of his shoulder. "Thought that would be enough for ‘ya." 

Muldoon proceeded to say something about the time he caught his dick in a car door-handle, resulting in a loud cry of disgust from the other men, as John got up to throw his trash away. When he sat down again, it was next to James. 

"How’s Max?" James asked, for a lack of having anything else to ask (not that he didn’t care about Max’s well-being). 

"Better, I guess," John shrugged. "I mean, she started sending me memes and referring to herself in the third person again. That’s progress." 

_Memes_ , James’ mind tried to recollect what Eleanor had told him about them. It didn’t come up with much. 

"That’s good," he said. "That’s – yeah." 

John nodded. 

"Would you – What are you doing after this?" He asked, and a feeling that had been long gone sparked to life again, right beneath James’ breast. Something resembling hope. 

And the thing was – he wasn’t free after this. He’d planned to go back home and grade that pile of papers his students were hoping to get back before Tuesday, he had laundry to do, and a phone-call to the bank to make that was sure to take up half of his time. 

"Absolutely nothing," he answered, and John seemed to sit straighter. "You?" 

\- 

John Silver talked too damn much. He was a flirt, and a tease, he participated in orgies and wore jeans so tight they hugged every curve of his thighs. James could see the muscles flex and move, when he gazed down and slightly to his left, where John was walking next to him. 

"Where are we going?" He asked for the hundredth time since they’d left together. So far all they’d been doing was walk towards a setting sun. "I’m truly past the age for surprises." 

"Are you admitting to being old?" 

James pushed him on the shoulder, rather harshly. 

"Fuck off. Tell me where the fuck we’re going." 

John stopped moving so abruptly then that James almost tripped on his own feet trying to do the same. 

"Frankly, I haven’t decided yet," John admitted, and James truly found himself wanting to hurt the guy. Until – "You must tell me one thing, first." 

James made a sign for him to go on. 

"I have to know whether or not this is a date." 

James laughed – out of nervousness, or panic, maybe a lot of both. He’d never had anyone be so blunt with him before. 

"Do you want it to be?" He asked instead of providing a clear answer, mostly because he simply had none. 

"I thought I’d made it awfully clear, what I wanted." John was growing slightly impatient with him – James could see it in the crease between his brows, and the way he fondled with his fingers. 

"I guess you have," James said, even though he still had a difficult time wrapping his mind around it. He’d made himself believe, in the long nights he spent staring at his bedroom ceiling, that John’s advances were nothing but playful jokes, meant to mess with his mind. 

Not to mention it felt somewhat wrong, going back to dating, after – everything. All that had happened with Thomas, and his dad, how he’d utterly _ruined_ everything, and how he would most likely end up doing the same with this. 

Still. There John Silver was, patiently waiting for him to provide him an answer to his original question; whether or not this was a fucking _date_ , having opened himself up completely to the fact that he obviously wanted it to be. 

"A date it is," James gave in to John’s eyes, John’s mouth and most of all John’s smile, despite every single ounce of his being urging him to do quite the opposite and run in the other direction. "So, where are we going?" 

\- 

James got out of the car with laughter in his eyes. 

"What is this? A field-trip?" 

John rolled his. 

"C’mon now – don’t ruin it." 

It might have been slightly hypocritical of James to mock John’s very childish idea of a date, yet walk up to the doors of the Cabrillo Marine Aquarium alongside him with what could very well be described as butterflies in his belly. Fucking _butterflies_ , he hadn’t felt those in years. 

It being a Sunday night, the crowd constituted mostly of other couples such as themselves, scattered around and about. It was far from the loud bar full of hipsters and loud morons James had been expecting John to bring him to, and he was awfully thankful for it. The ambiance of the whole place was rather nice – the lighting was dark but for a few carefully placed spots above the water. The rays of light cutting through made the whole experience seem magical, when they walked through the first tunnel and were instantly surrounded by water so dark it was almost frightening. 

"This is the only way I’ll ever like the sea," John shared, staring at a band of little white fishes that swam their way above their heads. "From behind a glass." 

"Really? I love the sea. It’s big, and threatening, and… free." 

"Yeah, _threatening_ ," John almost laughed. "Scary as shit, and way too much of a mystery for me to feel comfortable anywhere near it." 

John had a point, so James acquiesced with a nod of his head. They walked alongside each other, knuckles brushing accidentally on occasion, until they reached the turtles exhibit, and John exclaimed in a bright voice that he fucking loved turtles. Thus, they spent some time watching the little creatures swim and rest at the bottom of the pond. This was it, James thought, the only world those animals would ever know, and such a tiny piece of it, too. Caged in a giant establishment, made for entertainment, and still it was their home. They seemed comfortable enough, peaceful – it was a bittersweet sight to behold. 

John and himself still grew tired of them eventually. When they parted ways with John’s favorite animal it was towards nothing in particular, and so James let himself be submerged by the wild life of the ocean, right there for him to see, to appreciate, and be overwhelmed by. 

John seemed to catch on to his amazement. 

"This isn’t so bad after all, huh?" 

"Yeah," James couldn’t resist his smile. "This is nice." 

"Tell me some things about yourself," John whispered then, as if scared to say it, and James complied. 

They walked through the underworld and he shared stories of College, of foolish and mad adventures spent with his friend Gates, of the time he got drunk and sang at a karaoke bar until people booed so loud it almost caused an uproar. John laughed and gasped and reacted to each of the tales, sharing back with some of his own. The exchanges from their past were insignificant enough to share little to nothing about themselves, yet share anyways, and James felt like he was one of those creatures in the sea, floating not through water, but a feeling he’d forgotten long ago. He felt like John was handing him an entire open ocean to conquer, or a blank page to fill with words; a new beginning. 

When they finally kissed, it was under the fluorescent light of the jellyfishes, shades of blues and purples and whites dancing across their skins, and it was careful, and it was damning. 

James almost drowned with it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I did warn you it was gonna get cheesy af 
> 
> Seeing as this is probably the first fic without actual porn I've posted in months, I'd say this definitely needs a porny sequel. I'll get around to it. 
> 
> Comments, as always, are insanely appreciated. Please, do made my day and leave some. <3 
> 
> Find me on Tumblr @ Backsails :)


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